


Of Flower Crowns and Broken Teacups

by DestroyerOfMeals



Category: Black Clover - Tabata Yuki (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Flower Crowns, Fluff, Gen, Sibling Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:27:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28294545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DestroyerOfMeals/pseuds/DestroyerOfMeals
Summary: Charlotte Roselei is cursed. She is cursed to endure a timeless sleep from her eighteenth birthday, unless she loses her heart to some stupid man. And just to rub salt into her open wounds, her beautiful red roses were dyed blue just to remind her. And so, on that fateful night, she vowed to become strong. Stronger than any man – or anyone! Even stronger than the Wizard King. No matter what, she would become strong enough to break her curse all on her own.But at 15, Charlotte suspects another effect of her curse: a constant thorn in her side.As tea drenches her socks, she realises: no. He's not a curse. He's a devil. An actual. Literal devil.
Relationships: Luck Voltia & Charlotte Roselei
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	Of Flower Crowns and Broken Teacups

**Author's Note:**

> Based around the theory about them being siblings: An alternate universe in which they were raised together.  
> Luck is about 6 or 7 here. The timeline can for ages can be a little confusing since we don't get given years.

Charlotte Roselei is cursed. She is cursed to endure a timeless sleep from her eighteenth birthday, unless she loses her heart to some stupid man. And just to rub salt into her open wounds, her beautiful red roses were dyed blue just to remind her. And so, on that fateful night, she vowed to become strong. Stronger than any man – or anyone! Even stronger than the Wizard King. No matter what, she would become strong enough to break her curse all on her own.

But at 15, Charlotte suspects another effect of her curse: a constant thorn in her side.

Surrounded by a maze of almost-ripe blackberry bushes, Charlotte sips her tea. Her eyes absentmindedly trace over the garden table; its intricate designs scuffed over the years by the kicking feet of a restless child. The early July sun beating down on her would’ve fried her brain if it hadn’t already disintegrated out of sheer boredom. Charlotte was stuck with the worst job in the kingdom: babysitting her brother.

The house was almost empty. Her parents were visiting another noble for business and many of the staff had gone on holiday. Those that remained had almost fainted at the thought of having to watch him, so the responsibility fell squarely on her shoulders.

“Watch him.” Her father had demanded before he left. How was she supposed to watch him when she couldn’t even find him? _He thinks this is a game_. Charlotte stands up in a huff. He’s her responsibility and she’s going to take care of him whether he likes it or not.

ZAP

A quick burning pain spreads from her back. She lunges forward, knocking over the table. The abandoned teacup lands on the floor with a displeasing crack as it splits into a dozen pieces on the floor. She stares down at where the left-over tea spills over her shoes before turning to glare at the source of his misery.

Hanging on the back of the chair, Luck begins to laugh manically. The sound grates on the few fragments left of her sanity. _How funny_ , she thinks. The little bastard has ruined her afternoon, her day, _her life,_ and he’s _laughing_ about it. He can’t even _apologise,_ it’s just _that_ funny. Her life is a complete joke.

Luck’s tiny body is vibrating intensely from his joy, the movement topples the chair backwards. He falls on his back and the noise stops. Charlotte is almost worried about him, until it starts again. This time, somehow, more annoying than before.

Charlotte changes her mind: Luck isn’t a curse. He’s a devil. An actual. Literal. Devil.

Her fists clench at her side, then relax. She straightens herself, acting as though she had moved with complete grace and as if her socks aren’t gradually becoming soggier. She carefully bends down to pick up the table and moves the broken pieces onto them so that they don’t get lodged in his flailing limbs.

After what could have been hours, his laughter melts into small giggles interspersed with weak coughing, his throat tired from mocking his poor sister’s misery. Charlotte almost wants to feel sorry for the adorable little monster.

Charlotte should be training right now. How will she ever break her curse if she can’t become strong? It’s all his fault really. If it weren’t for him, she’d be able to train to her hearts content. But no, she’s forced to endure this… this… this torture! Honestly! She has much more _important_ things to worry about than his stupid pranks. Her only comfort in this is that in only a couple months she’ll finally be able to move away from him and into a magic knights’ base. Then, and only then, will she be able to enjoy herself!

Charlotte looks behind her. She sees how Luck sticks his tiny arms through the gaps in the chair’s back, how his hands try to grab her. A part of her, quietly in the back of her head, suggests that she’s being a bit harsh. And, she supposes, she is. He doesn’t mean to upset her; _he just wants to play._

Resignedly, Charlotte walks over to him and stands the chair up, taking Luck with it. She taps him his pointed nose. He looks a little cross-eyed as he stares at her finger.

“That bored, huh?” She teases; he giggles again. “Yeah. Me too”.

Luck pounces on her, arms wrapping as far around her as he could reach. She moves her hands down to support him and sits cross legged on the floor. As they settle, his little fists begin to rain down on her. She grabs his hands and pulls them over his head. “What are you doing?”

“I saw!” he yells, wriggling with excitement as his constant grin grown wider. “I saw you battling that guy!” He tries to kick her instead. “It looked like so much fun! I want to battle too!”

Charlotte is caught off gaurd, allowing a small chuckle to escape her. She clears her throat, embarrassed. “You want to battle?”

“Yeah! Fight me!”

“I can’t fight you.”

“Huh, why?”. Luck’s voice loses its excited tone, and his body relaxes. If it weren’t for his stagnant expression, he’d look undoubtedly heartbroken.

Charlotte pretends to consider it. “You’re just far too small. It’d be too easy for me. Not a good fight at all”

“NO!” Luck whines, wriggling in frustration. “I’m strong!”

Charlotte stares him done for a few moments. Then, in a second, she grabs him by the ankles and holds him upside down. He flails, desperate to land even a single hit on her. But Charlottes control is unwavering.

“See?” She teases. “You didn’t last a second! Not a challenge at all!” Luck’s body goes limp in her grip but smiling as always. Though, lacking in the brightness it held before, eyebrows furrowed together in a semi-frown.

“But… But… I want to fight…”

Charlotte carefully lowers him to sit in front of her. She contemplates for a few seconds, feeling the grass between her fingers. She watches as the light breeze lightly ruffles Luck’s hair. “When you’re big” she begins, quietly, “and you have your grimoire, I’ll fight you. properly”

“Really” he squeals, joyful vibrations starting anew. His eyes grow wide and he smiles so wide his teeth are visible.

Charlotte holds her hand out to him, outstretching her pinky finger to him. “I promise.” Luck links them together without hesitation. He laughs as his hair falls into his eyes. Charlotte tucks a few strands behind his ear.

Luck shoves his tiny paws in Charlotte’s face, “Close your eyes.”

“Huh? Why?” She pushes his hands away

“Close them!”

“Okay! Okay!” Charlotte closes her eyes covers them with her hands for good measure. In the darkness, she hears the faint thuds of his footsteps as he totters around the bushes.

Singing birds nest in the nearby trees. She wonders how long it will be before their children leave the nest. Or whether they’ve already gone. She wonders whether they’ll miss their old nest and whether they’ll be missed. She wonders whether birds ever see their siblings after they leave.

She hears the thumping coming back. Curious, she spreads her fingers and carefully peaks through the gaps. He’s holding –

“No peaking!” he yells.

Charlotte quickly covers them again. Luck comes to stand in front of her, humming in discontent. Charlotte is much taller than he is, this won’t do at all. He steps back a little. “Lean down.” Charlotte complies, allowing her braids to fall forward. Lucks hands clumsily comb through the loose strands of hair before laying a small weight over her head. Quiet moments with Luck have always thrown her off.

“Can I look?”. She asks, tentatively. Luck hums in affirmation. She slowly sits up and raises her hands to her head, carefully feeling the object with her fingertips. It’s soft and delicate. _It’s a flower crown_. The corners of Charlotte’s mouth pull into a small smile. It’s clumsily made and an aesthetic mess, but its beautiful. Tears prick in the corner of her eyes. “I love it, thank you.”

Charlotte reaches for Luck’s hand, guiding him to sit back in her lap, back to her stomach. She scoots them over so she can reach the sunflower bed on her right; under normal circumstances she would never dare touch any of the flower beds, but she can’t just not return the favour. And besides – Charlotte touches the crown with her other hand - there were already a few flowers missing, who would miss a few more?

Luck begins humming a broken tuneless melody, little legs idly kicking nothing. Charlotte joins in, carefully weaving each stem together and securing them in place.

Charlotte’s mind strays to her future. She wonders if she’ll be lonely. She wonders if Luck will be lonely with no one to play with. Charlotte knows he is already; he doesn’t have any friends; they all think he’s a creep. She wonders if it bothers him. Silently, she promises to never abandon him. Even if she’ll be living far away, she’ll come to visit him. And when he’s big and strong, as she’s sure he will be, she hopes they can fight side by side.

Without her notice, the blue sky has been tinted yellow by the setting sun. Luck’s wiggling begins to die down as he yawns like a kitten. Charlotte finishes her work and admires it with pride, unabashedly presenting it to her brother. He squealy in delight as it is placed on his head. 

They sit together for a while longer, her arms carefully wrapping around Luck. At some point, he half turns so bury his face against her side, wrapping his arms around her as well. The waning sunlight casts a halo in his hair. Charlotte brings her hands up to readjust the crown as it gets dangerously close to slipping, running her fingers through the mess of hair. His breathing slowly evens out as he curls further into her arms.

Charlotte thinks about how these moments have become far and few over the past year. She remembers how they would chase each other through the garden and how she would carry him on her back and on her shoulders. She’s dedicated as much of her time to training as she could since the grimoire ceremony. The pranks have only really been a problem since then.

When Charlotte is sure Luck is sleeping, she gently kisses him on the head.

A long time ago, Charlotte was cursed. But at 15, she suspects Luck is really a blessing disguised as one. And as the sun dips below the branches, Charlotte promises to become strong enough to protect Luck as well.


End file.
